Reasons and Freedom
by VoiDreamer
Summary: Blood mages are not victims, are not inherently evil, nor do they always have to side with the circle. A studied conversation between mage Hawke and Anders about the events following DA2. Slightly AU.


AN: Alrighty, so I'm currently working on chapters for my various other fics, but I was playing DA2 the other day as a blood mage and realized that if I wanted to side with the templars there had to be some darn good justficiation. I refuse to believe that all blood mages are victims, just as I like to think all heroes have both good and bad in them. Here's a study on what I feel could be the possible reasons for such a situation. Enjoy and I would love to hear from you all - suggestions and constructive criticism are always encouraged!

~Voi

BTW - I don't own anything you recognize (they belong to Bioware)

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><p>"I don't understand you at all," Ander's voice was edged in bitterness as it escaped through the bars of his prison and into the night. "A mage who sides with the Templars – a mage who practices <em>blood magic<em> and believes the Circle can still work. What are you thinking - or is this whole thing an indication that you're incapable of such things?"

There was equal parts disgust and disbelief in his tone, his expression mirroring the strong emotion. But for all his scrutiny and anger Marian Hawke could barely find it in herself to feel sympathy. Indeed the woman appeared almost carved of ice as she continued to watch him with unending patience. Folding her hands calmly in her lap, she answered mildly. "What do you want me to say, Anders? What part of me supporting the Templars means that I can't practice magic as I see fit? "

"_Blood magic_?" The words were all but snarled at her as he rounded on her, eyes flashing. "Templars have _killed_ mages for less!"

"I imagine the whole 'blowing up the Chantry' thing counts as 'more' then." Marian's voice was dry as she stared back at the fellow mage. "Tell me, are you upset at me for stopping you from using the explosive or is this just jealousy talking?"

There was a fleeting smile on her lips, dark and dangerous, a strange expression who had otherwise been a paragon of morality. "I never did understand how you would think I couldn't figure out for myself what you were up to – all those ingredients." Sighing softly Marian shook her head, "All it took was a bit of reading, Anders. I can't say you were very good about hiding those books, and that you were acting so suspicious didn't help."

"You're changing the subject," The words were half growled as Anders glared at her, "What's the matter, scared to tell me how you got into blood magic?"

"Would it even matter to you?" Marian wanted to know with another smile, crossing the space between them to gently caress the side of his face. "What do you want? A sob story about how I was _forced _to learn it? About how I never wanted to learn but it was 'the only way' to survive?"

She sighed shaking her head, "Blood magic is as much about physical blood as it is about intention, force of will. I _wanted_ that power, Anders. I'll make no excuses; I desired that power and took it for myself."

"But _why_?" Her rival questioned brokenly, "You saw what it did for Merrill, and you know the dangers. To do blood magic as a dog of the Templars, it's only a matter of time before they try to-"

His was cut off suddenly, by her mouth as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips, stealing away his air, his every thought. Pulling away, she looked at him with eyes hard and soft, angry and yet insurmountably happy.

"Worried about me, are you?"

She took several steps backwards, distancing herself from the tender look on his face, the overwhelming sensations that threatened whenever he was near. There had always been a closeness despite their disagreements, a knowledge of the other that went beyond mere 'knowing thy enemy.'

"Tell me something, Anders." Marian tried to summon a smile to her lips and failed, "Do you remember when Fenris told us about the Imperium? About how the Chantry couldn't control the Circle there because the mages there were heirs of power, mages borne to legacies of magic as old as Calenhad the Great?"

The hush of suspicion settled over the healer before he swallowed, answering slowly, "Fenris and I argued about it incessantly. It basically amounted to mages being in positions of power enough to overrule anything the Chantry said. Have enough people believe those few powerful mages and…"

He trailed off then; his eyes going wide as understanding dawned. Color seemed to both leave him and then rush back in the same instant. "By the Maker, that's what you have been doing isn't it?"

The smile that bloomed, lovely and full on her lips was answer enough, but Marian replied anyway.

"I am both Viscount and First Enchanter of the Circle now. My brother is a member of the Templar order and as far as Cullen understands I have always done what is in the best interest of Kirkwall. I _am_ the heart of Kirkwall's power now."

It had taken her saying the words to solidify the knowledge that had been little more that vaporous thought. And with the clarity came the realization that, for all of his notions of freedom, this woman had gone even further, _planned_ further.

It was terrifying to watch the young woman sit before him with so much poise and control, to suddenly be beholden to the thoughts that sung through her despite her solidity. There was passion where he had believed only coldness existed. But just as he found himself so swayed by her argument, there were some things, some moments of heartlessness that even he could not fully understand.

"You sacrificed all the mages in the Circle…for what?" His voice shook, torn between wonder and anguish, "You're going to bring the Imperium aren't you - Mages ruling mages despite the Chantry rules? But how could you let all of them die?"

"You said yourself that there would be a cost to freeing mages." Marian shrugged negligently, "I lost a battle so I could win the war, Anders. I did what you could not, I sacrificed those I love."

She was everything Fenris had warned them about Tevinter mages; beautiful, seductive, so powerful that the world seemed to bend at their smallest whim.

"You didn't love them, not truly." Anders whispered though anger sharpened his words, "You wouldn't have done that to the Circle if you had."

"How then is it that you can live with yourself after what you did to Karl?" Marian wanted to know, quickly becoming angry in response to his own ire, "You killed him out of love didn't you? Or was it because you hated him so very much?"

She cruelly mocked him in the end, sneering the words with an expression that completely transformed her.

"Go on; tell me again that I killed them because _I_ _liked_ it." Marian rounded on him her eyes flashing dangerously. "I am no _Andraste_, Anders, but neither am I without a conscious."

The silence that followed was deafening. For long moments it stretched on, until it threatened to snap as if it were a physical thing.

"I never knew you, did I?" His voice was soft when at last he spoke, self-depreciating as he gestured to her.

"None of you did," Marian responded gently her eyes dull with fatigue as she turned from the window to glance at him from the corner of her eye. "But if I am truly heartless then we are but mirrors of each other aren't we?"

He crossed the room then, the first since she had arrived. Wrapping his arms around her, Anders could not help but pull her close. Pain and happiness seemed so very close now, close enough that he could not figure out one from the other.

"You told me once that you would only break my heart," Her voice was a whisper against his shoulder, "I suppose I should have told you the same, it would have saved us both some trouble."

"Would you still have gone to Fenris if you had?" Anders smiled humorlessly as he stared into the eyes of a woman he had loved for so long. "Would you have stayed away from blood magic if I had been by your side?"

"I don't know." Her response was honest, "I doubt it would have changed the blood magic."

"Fenris doesn't know does he? About your larger plan?"

"He suspects," the smile on her lips was self-mocking, "But I don't know if he has it in himself to kill me."

It was, Ander thought to himself, one of the few traits he shared with the elven man.

"Would you kill him if he got in your way?" There was no pleasure in his question, merely inquiry. Moments earlier it would have been spoken with malice, anger, now there was only quiet consideration.

"I could no more kill him than I could kill you." In his arms Marian shook her head, "Besides, it's already too late."

"Too late?" Anders repeated the question not understanding, "For what?"

"For anything," Marian smiled again, "Haven't you heard, Anders? All the Circles are rebelling and the mages are finding their strength."

"They're fighting against everything _you_ stand for." Anders frowned down at her, "They're fighting against Templars, Templars that _you_ supported."

"Haven't you learned anything from this exchange?" Marian chided softly as she slowly extricated herself from his embrace. "Nothing is ever quite what it seems, Anders."

She pressed one last, lingering, kiss to his mouth before she turned to leave. And then she was gone, returning to the stone palace that was rightfully hers, to wait, to watch.

"You weren't the only one who was busy these past ten years."

Her words echoed in his head as her hand had pressed something into his palm. Small and angular, it still carried the warmth of her body.

A key.

His key.

Freedom.


End file.
